


One Simple Truth

by moon932



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind the Tags, Oop, kinda steve centric?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:09:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon932/pseuds/moon932
Summary: there is one simple truth people seem to forget.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	One Simple Truth

**Author's Note:**

> pls pls pls be warned, this does have a depressed vibe, angst is kinda my strong suit so be warned

There is one simple truth people seem to forget. Above all else, Steve Rogers was human. He bled and he cried, he mourned and he laughed. He has made mistakes. Even if people are willfully ignorant of those mistakes, they still happened. And they hang over his head in a tragic masterpiece.

Steve forgets sometimes. Forgets that he isn’t a dancing monkey, he isn’t a robot.

Well, the last one he’s questioning. He’s met some robots that have character.

One simple truth, Steve Rogers was quick to anger. He had a temper, and often that temper ended with bullies. But seeing as he woken up in a new century, the temper has started being vented on one to many punching bags.

One simple truth, Steve Rogers has a phobia of big bodies of water. When he does get into water, or dunk his head under the spray of the shower, the water is usually scaldingly hot and makes his pale irish skin baby pink. 

When you spent seventy years doing time asleep in frozen water, you usually don’t want to go cannon balling into the next body of water.

Which brings us to our next simple truth. Steve hates sleeping. He can often avoid it, with his enhancements he’s learned that he can go longer than the average human can go without sleep. 

Usually, this leads to him to the gym. Duck taped punching bags spilling and splitting as tears mixed with a barely there shine of sweat. He could feel the spilt skin under the wrapping, and he hated himself. Hated himself for every single mistake he’s ever made. Builds himself up just so he wiggle a piece and he’ll topple down. Like a Jenga tower. Made to topple. Over and over and over and over again.

Humpty Dumpty climbed a wall.   
Humpty Dumpty has a great fall.

Over and over and over and over again.

The swish of the doors pulled him out of his mind. The punching bag wasn’t mostly duct tape. The punching bag was swinging, the soft creaking of the chains rung out, mixed with Steve’s panting breaths. The punching bag hasn’t spilt. Hasn’t split. 

“Hey there soldier,” a voice called out. Looking up he saw brown hair and brown eyes, tanned skin with a warm smile. Steve didn’t respond, just watched as Tony walked over. The foot steps seeming like a drum. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Could say the same to you.” He panted out, hands clenching. He could feel the warm blood getting soaked into the wrapping. The old itchy white bandage making his hand itch. He could feel the rub of bone against it.

Tony sighed, a long suffering but amused sigh. “Alas, my bed is empty and cold tonight.” He replied, eyes watching him. Analyzing. It was as if Steve was a piece of coding for the genius to solve. To make perfect.

Maybe he could. He could let Tony fix him, he was a mechanic. Steve could be the robot. Tony could fix him. Take a look at the out dated coding, fix all the errors. Fix all the pain.   
Maybe he would give up. Scoff at the faulty wiring and burn the circuitry. 

Or maybe, maybe he’d find beauty in it. Tony has kept DUM-E around for a while. Always seeming to take offense when anyone even joked about changing any of his creations coding.

“That’s a shame. Your bed seems awfully comfy.”   
Another simple truth; Steve Rogers could be a sassy little shit when he wanted to be. 

Tony’s lip quirked in amusement, but the mirth didn’t dance around his eyes. Steve always thought Tony had pretty eyes. Brown like his father’s but the rest was his mother’s. Long eyelashes, round eyes, and a warmth that Howard could never quite find. At the same time though, the brown color was so different from Howard’s. So different from a man who’s pleasure always came from himself. Who was fortified. Who could be amusing, was often out for gain. For more.

Tony seemed like he wanted less.  
Funny how people wish for completely different things but always seemed the same.   
“Aw yes, with Egyptian silk covers, you’ll find my extravagant queen sized bed barely gets any use.” He snarked, it wasn’t biting or sharp. It was as if he put barley any thought into it. Steve envied that.

Humpty Dumpty climbed a wall.  
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. 

Tony tilted his head, “Wanna drink hot chocolate and pretend we can see the stars in the polluted city?” Tony asked, reaching for Steve’s arm anyways. “We can spill all our woes and watch shitty night shows.”

Steve breathed in. It felt as if he were having an asthma attack. He couldn’t breathe, but now he could. He could breathe, it just didn’t feel like he was. Steve nodded, unwrapping his hands as they walked out of the gym. 

“Did you blow anything up?” He asked, bone deep exhausted but he couldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to sleep. 

Tony smiled, a small secretive smile that he gave when he thought something was funny. “How’d you know?” He asked. Frowning as he caught sight Steve’s knuckles, grabbing one of his hands to examine when the two were in the elevator. “Steve, you okay? That doesn’t look to great.” Steve shrugged.

“It’s fine, it’ll be healed in the morning.” He replied, his knuckles stung. But that was fine. His knuckles stung but that was fine. It’s always fine. 

Tony frowned, peering up at him. God he was short, Steve thought. He could wrap his arm around his shoulder, and Tony would fit perfectly. Steve breathed in, breathed out. “Nothing hot chocolate can’t fix?”

God he sounded weak. He didn’t want to sound weak. 

The elevator opened, the two went to the kitchen and put the milk on the stove. Tony dug through the cabinet under the sink. Steve watched as he dug out the first aid kit. 

“You know i’ll be fine by morning, right?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow when Tony didn’t react. Just dragged him by the wrist and sat him down on the chair he usually sat at when the team ate together.

Silently Tony grabbed his hand, the first aid kit opened on the table. 

“Just because it’ll heal doesn’t mean I don’t want to look at it. It’s like when one of us gets shot or bruised, we’ll heal but you still wanna check on us.” Tony shrugged, grabbing the bandage to wrap snugly around Steve’s knuckles. “Don’t think just because you’re on miracle steroids that this doesn’t apply to you.” Tony said, grabbing his other hand.

Steve sat there, catching Tony’s hand before he went to turn away.

In the low light Steve could just only make out Tony looking at him. The blue glow of the arc reactor made him feel ethereal. Tony moved slowly, as if knowing what Steve need when he can’t even ask himself. 

Tony wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulders, one hand coming up to entwine in his blonde hair and cradle his head. 

Steve. Steve felt warm, like if he broke down it’ll be alright. Because Tony was there. Tony was there and he’d protect him. He’d take a look at the imperfect code and smile at the imperfections. He’d take a look at the rusted wiring and gently replace them. He’d find the out dated circuitry and he’s update it.

There is one simple truth that Steve sometimes forget. 

Everyone may see him as perfect. May forget he is simply human. That he makes mistakes and that they hang over his head as if it were displayed in a gallery. 

That the one simple truth is, Tony Stark knows he’s human. So when Steve forgets, he’ll be there to remind him.


End file.
